


Absence of Fault

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Mind Control, Murder, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick's mind is taken over and he's used as a mere tool by an unknown source. Damian's only concern is that he not let Dick find out what the other side of the law feels like and he'd do anything to keep it that way: even murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absence of Fault

**Author's Note:**

> For DynamicDuoWeek2016 over on tumblr. Day 1: "Put the knife down, _now_."  
>  Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "ビロードの鳥" by DECAYS

Damian's heart thudded hard in his chest, the adrenaline of the moment surging up inside of him despite his best efforts not to let this - of all things - get to him. But here he was, confronted with _his_ Batman, knife against the throat of some random street thug. It wasn't even big game, as far as he was concerned. It wasn't Joker or Black Mask or even Scarecrow or Penguin. Hell, this was just some idiot with a gun and Damian was pretty damn sure Dick was about to lose it on him. 

_Normally_ the idea of having Dick on his side, on the side ready to rid the world of the slime they encountered would have left him pleased as punch, but _this_ was not Dick. This was Dick under the influence of someone else's mind, Dick warring with himself inside the shell of his body, and this would leave him broken on the inside if he slit this man's throat. Maybe he would have been able to deal with it had it been some big bad, someone who'd wronged the city and her people a thousand fold. _Maybe_. But this... this would rip him apart inside and Damian wasn't about to let that happen.

He advanced, his sword out, his adrenaline threading through his body, weaving a sweet web that made him even more fearless than usual. This time he was just fine facing off to a man that - now deadly - left him breathless and bruised even when they were sparring. Their eyes locked and he could _see_ the emptiness inside of Dick, could sense that this other side was winning.

"Put the knife down... _now_ ," he hissed threateningly, and let them weave exactly what he wanted in the air between them. Doubt sparked behind those eyes, the fight from within renewed, but he could also see the determination of whatever was controlling Dick surge and he knew then, that if he didn't act, blood was about to be on Dick's hands.

Hesitation fell away and Damian ripped a Batarang from his belt, sent it flying right into the hostage's jugular. He watched the man gurgle and then go limp in Dick's arms, watched as Dick let him crumple to the ground and then watched as he started to follow, the hold on him released now that the job was done. 

Damian was there in an instant, catching him before he hit the ground, wrenching him around and hauling him up, sliding the Batagrang along the man's neck even more to create a less obvious hole. Maybe it'd throw the authorities, maybe it wouldn't. Either way, it wouldn't be his first dance with the law. He clipped it back to his belt and hauled Dick along with him, all the way back to the Batmobile. He didn't ask, didn't bother explaining himself either, just dumped Dick into the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel. Once they were strapped in, he peeled out and hightailed their way out of Gotham, heading into Blüdhaven instead. 

He watched the way Dick grew more and more green around the gills as they moved along and finally pulled over, breathing out, "Open the door, you're about to be sick." Just in time, Dick wrenched open the door and Damian could hear him gagging as he stared straight forward, refusing to look toward him for any reason at that moment. He was a strong kid, stronger than most gave him credit for, but he _wasn't_ good with vomit. Even the sound of it was rolling his stomach, though he was loathe to admit it, would deny it if he was asked. But God was it disgusting.

Dick spit a few times and then the door closed and Dick sluggishly pulled the seat belt back on, easing back against the seat and closing his eyes. "He's dead..."

"Not the first time I've taken a life, Grayson." The words should have been harsh, should have come out bitter and biting, but they didn't. Instead, they were almost sympathetic, almost understanding. "I did what I had to do. Do not blame yourself for any of this. You were not in control of your mind." Damian pulled out again, weaving through traffic with an ease that he shouldn't have been able to pull off, but very much was. 

Dick lolled his head to the side and Damian got the impression that behind the cowl, he wore the most pained expression. He didn't look. "You shouldn't have to-"

"I did and there is no going back. Move forward." Simple. Matter-of-fact. 

Dick was quiet for a long time as they moved through the streets, their presence enough to break up a few things: a drug deal paused part way through, a mugger running away and leaving a young couple shaken but not harmed, a sex deal parting ways half-finished. None of it made Damian's radar. He was so desensitized to it all, even after such a short period of time. Even the life he'd just taken hadn't set itself in stone anywhere in his mind. Maybe if it were the life of an innocent again... if he did the things he once had. But no, those things were in his past, atoned for in part and he had his plan to atone for the rest, a path paved just for himself that would bring light to the shadows of his past. 

They made their circuit of Blüdhaven and Damian - for the most part - left the police to deal with most of it. He called in the anonymous tips he needed to, shone their headlights where it would be most affective, and then they were headed back into Gotham. He only hit the most prevalent of stops, the ones they _had_ to hit up or trouble would brew in only a single night, and then they were ripping back toward home, the car pushed well past what Dick would have been doing with it. They hit the slope into the cave and Damian downshifted through it, bringing the car to a neat stop, no skid marks, no jerking.

He was out in a second, heading right for the sanitizing showers, not even waiting on Dick to get out of the car. Why risk anything if he could rinse it all away? 

Twenty minutes later, everything he owned was sparkling clean and the best forensics teams in the world would have had trouble even figuring out if he'd worn the damn suit before, much less used any of the tools he kept with him. He piled everything into his locker and wrapped himself up in the terrycloth robe Alfred had bought him by the close of his third day as Robin. Dick took his place and Damian settled at the computer, starting to input their log for the night, leaving a convenient hole where a certain alley was concerned. He wove the other pieces in to cover that time period and was pressing save just as Dick's presence came to exist behind him. 

Leaning back in the chair, Damian breathed out, "If this comes back, it is on me. No argument." He let himself absorb the very presence of Dick behind him, let it settle him in the most gentle of ways, and when he tipped his head back to look up at Dick, he found Dick's expressive gaze already on him. He watched the faintest of nods and the resignation that followed come across his face like a shadow that Damian knew would never lift. "This isn't your fault." It was what he needed to hear, no matter that it wasn't something Damian would normally have offered.

Dick's hand came to his shoulder, squeezed gently before he turned away, only his words and the lingering scent of his shampoo hanging on the air behind him. "It's not yours either."


End file.
